Author Cotton Mather The Child at his Food . At Eating , thus I ever shou'd Devout and Thankful be; My God, I Bless thee for my Food; Let it be Bless'd to me. A Child, that when he goes to Eat , Thinks not of GOD at all, Is like the Bruits , which at their Meat On God do never call. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments